


heavy things

by johncasey



Category: The Last Ship (TV)
Genre: Drowning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johncasey/pseuds/johncasey
Summary: This is why they didn’t talk about it; why they couldn’t talk about it. They’re addicted to the fire that rushes through their veins with every inch of skin that presses against the other’s.And playing with fire is dangerous---everyone knows that.
Relationships: Tom Chandler/Mike Slattery
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	heavy things

It's not unusual that Tom doesn't want to talk about it. They don't talk about heavy things. Not since they were in their thirties. Heavy things meant talking about the way they could read each other with a single look. Heavy things meant the way those looks lingered for longer than they should. 

They do not talk about heavy things. 

But today is different. 

Today, Tom went down with Nathan James and almost let the sea claim him as he chased his white whale. 

Mike, finally still from pacing in front of Tom who was sitting on the edge of a bed, dares to meet that familiar icy blue gaze and it took his breath away. 

"The hell were you thinkin', Tom?" he finally breathes. The look on his face is incredulous, and more than that, it’s _hurt_.

Tom shakes his head slowly, looking away from Mike. He can’t bring himself to look at him right now. He knows exactly what’s on his face. He’s seen it more in recent years than he cares to admit. And it’s **his own** fault. It seems like an eternity passes before Tom is speaking, looking through the wall his eyes are focused on. “First… it feels like hope… there’s this feeling that you can make it if you just… _hold on_. That’s when the panic starts because you can’t breathe in. If you do,” he shakes his head. “If you do, you’ll take in a mouthful of water. It’ll choke you, fill up your lungs, and make it feel like it’s crushing you. But I didn’t feel panic, Mike,” he says, looking up at the Admiral.

Mike’s brow furrows as he takes a seat next to Tom, eyes on his. “What’d you feel?”

Tom thinks, head shaking again. A long moment of silence passes between them. “Everything. Everyone?” he mumbles in a gruff tone. “Ever since Darien… I’ve wanted to drown. I wanted to suffocate because I _deserved_ it. I was too late. I didn’t save her. If I had been just a little faster. Maybe an hour… I could’ve saved her, Mike,” he breathes, eyes back on the other man. “And Rachel? If I’d just given in to what **I** wanted… she’d still be alive today…”

“You can’t put all the blame on yourself, Tom. You can’t,” he shakes his head, reaching for Tom’s hand. It’s a gesture that has long since been missing between the two, but it feels like it was only yesterday that they last were here, fingers automatically lacing together in such an intimate way. 

“I don’t know who else to blame…” 

“Sometimes shit just happens… look at my family.... Christine, Hannah, AJ, Lucas…” he shakes his head, tears forming a glassy sheen over his eyes. “I could play the blame game all god damn day, but when it comes down to it, there’s nothing I could’ve done, whether Christine wanted to hear that or not… we weren’t there because we chose to serve our country with pride. And that’s something to be proud of, no matter how much we feel like it isn’t sometimes,” Mike says with such a gentleness that Tom feels himself begin to choke up. 

Tom doesn’t have to say the words he’s thinking, Mike already knows, and again, he’s shaking his head. “We all made a choice. We all put ourselves on that ship and she was a good ship and our crew was the best of the best. We saved the whole fucking world, Tommy… we saved the _whole world_ ,” Mike reminds him softly, thumb brushing the back of his hand.

“At **what cost**?” Tom growls in response, jaw clenched as he bites back tears that he doesn’t want to let fall.

“Tom,” Mike pleads, a soft, almost breathy whisper of the other man’s name.

“AT WHAT COST?” Tom says, voice raising. He’s so angry. His hand squeezes Mike’s almost too hard, but he doesn’t let go. He presses his free hand against his eyes, willing himself not to cry.

“Freedom is never free,” Mike says gently, quoting President Ronald Reagan. “My parents… I lost them and that’s what allowed me my freedom to join the Navy like I always wanted… it cost me _everything_ to join. And it cost me _everything_ to help save the world. But that’s what we did,” Mike says, voice cracking as tears of his own slipped silently down his cheeks. “There’s one thing we both still have, though,” he whispers, eyes locked on Tom’s even though the other’s gaze is focused on a rivet in the wall, looking through it again. 

Tom turns after a moment, meeting Mike’s bright blue gaze. The pain in his eyes makes his heart break all over again, but Tom knows what Mike’s talking about. He always knows. “I didn’t give up… I didn’t drown… because I knew you were waiting for me. You’ve been waiting this whole time, Mike, and I’m sorry.”

Mike smiles, nodding. “Don’t be sorry. You came back. Again. I told your sorry ass not to look back, but you couldn’t stop looking back,” he chuckles, even as tears run down his cheek. His hand moves to cup Tom’s cheek, and Tom finds himself leaning into it. 

“I love you, Mike,” he says, voice firm and confident, even though everything feels like it’s about to cave in.

“I love you, too.” Mike doesn’t hesitate any longer as he moves to press his lips to Tom’s. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt anything like it. There’s so much that they’ve been through. So much that they’ve come through on the other side. All of it is compounded in the way Tom’s tongue slips inside Mike’s mouth to run against his as though it was made to be there. A soft hum escapes Mike and he lets go of Tom’s hand so he can cup his face with both of his hands, scooting closer to him, no space in between them.

Mike’s been touch starved for _so long_ now, it’s only a few moments before his hands slide slowly down Tom’s neck and chest, pulling up the borrowed t-shirt he was given and sighing into the kiss as his fingertips run over Tom’s skin. He feels cold, likely from the water earlier, but Mike doesn’t care as his palms flatten, snaking around to Tom’s back.

Tom feels heat rush through his body from head to toe and he’s pulling off his shirt, nimble fingers already working on Mike’s uniform. His touch is reverent and firm, desperate to feel how his body’s changed after all these years. He’s been there for almost every new scar, but he’s not been allowed to touch, not until now. Tom’s fingers find the raised line on Mike’s abdomen and his breath hitches. That one was his fault (so he believes). 

“I’m sorry,” Tom breathes as he slides his hands around to Mike’s back and pulls him closer still as Mike’s lips land on his neck with only a grunt in response. There’s no apology needed and Tom knows that. 

A gentle trail of kisses is placed until he gets to the join of his neck and shoulder, a spot he’s always known to be sensitive forTom, and he is not disappointed at the way his teeth sink into the skin there and Tom moans. It’s gruff and almost like a growl, which pulls the same kind of noise from Mike and he sucks hard there to be sure the skin is darkened. His tongue soothes over it, lips tugging into a grin. 

Finally, he’s Mike’s again.

Mike pushes Tom onto his back and there is not even the _slightest_ hesitation as he pulls the borrowed sweatpants down, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. It’s been a long time since he’s done this, but his hands slide up Tom’s thighs slowly, yet with an undeniable eagerness. His tongue flicks out to lick teasingly at the head of Tom’s cock and Tom moans softly again, eyes locked on Mike’s as the older man’s hand wraps around his hardened length.

Mike strokes him slowly, gaze unwavering as he moves to take the tip into his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around it. His eyes close at the taste, one he’s never quite forgotten, and he hums, shifting his hand so he can take more into his mouth. His tongue flattens against the velvet soft skin of Tom’s shaft and after a moment of working his way down, down, down, Mike’s got the entire length covered in his hot, wet mouth.

Mumbled curses leave Tom’s lips with breathy moans as his hips arch up into his mouth with a low groan. “ _Fuck_ , Mike,” he says as the other’s eyes open again and Tom holds the gaze. “You were always way too fucking good at that… looks like some things never change, huh?” he chuckles just a bit until Mike’s moving faster now. But this isn’t what Tom wants, he decides, as he tugs at Mike’s uniform, pulling him up and into a heated kiss as his hands can’t move fast enough to undress him. This kiss is a mess of teeth and tongues, of words breathed into each other’s mouths, and finally they are skin against skin, tangling together as Mike’s hips press against Tom’s over and over in a delicious sort of friction that neither can get enough of.

This is why they didn’t talk about it; why they couldn’t talk about it. They’re addicted to the fire that rushes through their veins with every inch of skin that presses against the other’s. 

And playing with fire is dangerous---everyone knows that.

They couldn’t stop even if they tried at this point, despite the raging fire that threatened to burn them both to their very cores. With slick fingers, Mike uses one digit at a time until Tom’s ready for him to line up and push in until they’re flush together, until they’re one in the way that they’d both secretly ached for all those years apart.

He moves in Tom, slowly at first until he can no longer hold back. His lips lock with Tom’s as he fucks into him hard and fast. It’s just enough to bring Tom back from the watery near-grave, and spark _something_ in his eyes again as he feels nothing but pleasure from every thrust. 

Pleasure tightens like a coil low in his belly and all he can do is mumble, “ _Mike_.”

“Me too,” he rumbles in response, lips dragging down Tom’s jawline to his neck to kiss and lick there. His thrusts become erratic, though he tries his best to keep them steady as he wraps a hand around Tom’s aching length, matching the pace his hips set until they both reach their peak, Mike right after Tom. There’s a string of curses dotted with the other’s name as pleasure washes over them in crashing waves.

Mike’s arm shakes as he holds himself up, though he withdraws from Tom and lands on his side rather quickly, panting. Tom’s chest heaves as he looks over at Mike, skin flushed red with pleasure, sweat dripping from his forehead, smile on his lips. One that reaches his eyes. One that Mike hasn’t seen in _years_. “You still got it, Admiral,” Tom pants, grinning widely.

“You’re not so bad yourself, sir,” Mike grins, moving closer to kiss him. This one is slow and sated, but it speaks so many words that he’s been holding back all this time.

“Think I’m ready to talk about it… about everything…” Tom says finally, eyes meeting Mike’s.


End file.
